Victors Support Group
by RowlingTribute91
Summary: A year has passed since the rebellion ended. On the advice of Effie Trinket, the surviving victors are meeting. This new yearly tradition will either bring them closer- or tear them apart. Each chapter is written from a different character’s perspective. *DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ OR SEEN MOCKINGJAY! SPOILERS!*
1. Year One- Katniss

***Note from the author: Can you believe it's been five years since we first saw** **The Hunger Games** **come to life on the big screen? Wow. I'll never forget it. Here's a little something to commemorate this anniversary!** **We don't know for sure that any other victors survived besides the ones who voted on a Capitol Hunger Games. This is what I'm basing the story on.***

 **Year One**

 **Katniss**

 _"_ _Night has always pushed up day_

 _You must know life to see decay,_

 _But I won't rot_

 _I won't rot…_

 _Not this mind, and not this heart,_

 _I won't rot."_

-Mumford and Sons

* * *

I knock on Effie Trinket's apartment door. Peeta and Haymitch stand beside me.

Effie herself answers. "Dear Katniss," she coos, "I've missed you."

"I missed you, too." And wouldn't you know, my words are true. Though I still think she dresses ridiculously (just look at her frilly turquoise ensemble!), the war has changed her almost as much as it's changed me. She's really not so bad. Through it all, no matter what we've done, her faith in us hasn't wavered. That kind of loyalty is priceless. We all trade hugs with her.

Peeta grasps my hand firmly as Effie lets us inside. He and I vowed to start over; and we've become great friends. Who knows where it might lead? Maybe one day, we'll try being a real couple. I'm just thankful to have the real Peeta Mellark by my side again.

That's not the only change. After President Snow died, Capitol officials and Peacekeepers were forced to resign. Sentenced to hard labor in District 11. The worst offenders were given the mercy of death. Commander- or should I say, _President_ , Paylor- is a welcome change as we gather our country back together. We never did hold a Hunger Games with Capitol tributes. Which is fine by me. I'm not sure I was in my right mind when I voted for them.

Mom left District 12 and moved to District 4, where she's earning a legitimate nurse's certificate. But I've visited occasionally. We call each other all the time. Gale, well… from what I hear, he's off in District 2.

The next face I see is Annie Cresta- I mean, Odair. I've seen plenty of her lately, as she generously allowed my mother to live with her in District 4's Victors Village.

"How's Rowan doing?" I ask.

She grins broadly. "He gets bigger every day. I can't keep up with him sometimes. Wanna see pictures?"

"Sure," I reply.

It's a rare occasion when Annie smiles, but you know what they say about new mothers and their complexions; her porcelain skin really does glow. Once she announced her pregnancy, I finally understood Finnick's last, incomplete words to me: "Take care of Annie and my-" _My child._ She gave birth to her son a few months ago. I bet if you placed Finnick's baby photos against Rowan's, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

Beetee and Johanna are chatting about their jobs. Johanna stands up to awkwardly hug me, but the hug she gives Peeta looks way more natural. She told me once that he reminds her of her dead brother.

 _We're very familiar with each other's screams._

Enobaria, not bothering to greet us, sits in a corner by herself. We still have an unspoken hatred for each other. But Paylor made her an honorary Peacekeeper, so I dare not aggravate her.

This is what's left of us. Seventy-five Hunger Games victors, cut down to seven. Many died before my time. Haymitch says that some left the world by choice; after countless attempts, they learned the art of doing it quickly. No Capitol doctors could revive them. Eighteen victors were snuffed out through the Quarter Quell. Others fought in the war and lost. Others, I've learned, were executed by Alma Coin during her short presidency.

So here we are. The seven.

"Hello, everyone!" Effie cheers. "It brings me great pleasure to have all our living victors under one roof again. Thank you for accepting my invitations. Now, I know I don't understand what you're going through, after your horrible experiences. But I _do_ know that you need to go through it together."

"Why'd you invite _her_?" Johanna asks, nodding to Enobaria.

"This is a victor's group, isn't it, dear? Miss Golding did her time inside the arena. Just like yourself. You owe her some respect."

Johanna rolls her eyes. "Not gonna do that, lady. Clearly, you weren't paying attention when they _didn't_ rescue her from the Capitol."

"Yeah, Snow let me go," Enobaria replies, smirking. "I guess he actually liked me."

"He should've killed you."

I can't say I disagree. Enobaria trained, for years, with all sorts of weapons. Boggs could've made her a rebel squad leader. If she had died, it would've been honorably. Like Finnick. Instead, she abandoned us. Where's the honor there?

Now I seriously regret not shooting her on that final night of the Quarter Quell.

"Well," Enobaria replies bitterly, "Even though he didn't succeed, he definitely _tried_ to kill me. _Twice_."

"Hmmm. You know, bloodsucker, I'm pretty sure we've got you beat."

"Just because I left doesn't mean I sat back in safety. Who do you think supplied the rebels? Huh? _Me_. I spent every day crafting your weapons."

 _What?_ I must've heard incorrectly.

" _Beetee_ made our weapons," I argue. My bow, the special arrows, Finnick's trident, Gale's crossbow…

"No, he _enhanced_ them. I was fine with him taking all the credit. Do you know why, Girl on Fire? You don't trust me. I never laid a hand on your pretty face in the arena, and you _still_ don't trust me."

"Never call me that," I hiss. But I watch Beetee's face.

"She's not lying about the weapons," he admits. "I just attached the explosives to your arrows, and ran some wires through. People come to me for technological assistance. Can you really see me welding metals into tridents or bows or swords?"

"You aren't that easy to read, Beetee," I reply coldly. My fists still clench up whenever I'm around him. The man partially responsible for Prim's death. This is the most I've spoken to him since that day.

He knows what I'm talking about, of course. "Katniss, I didn't have any idea…"

Gale used the same excuse.

"Yes, you _did!_ " I fire back. "Mom told her not to go to the Capitol, but she did it anyways. You could've warned her!"

I leave out the fact that Prim wouldn't have listened. She was too much like me sometimes.

"And _you're_ a freaking coward!" Johanna yells at Enobaria. "I heard most of the remaining victors were put down while we stayed in District Thirteen. Why not you?"

"Because, unlike every other victor here, I'm a good liar."

"And unlike your district's tributes from my year, I'm alive," Johanna taunts.

"Not before they killed your pathetic excuse of a district partner."

Johanna throws the first punch. Enobaria may be aging in comparison, but her Career skills haven't left her. She returns with her own punch to Johanna's jaw. Peeta quickly grabs Johanna from behind, restraining her wrists. Haymitch somehow manages to hold back Enobaria.

"Don't mess with me," she screams, "you stupid, unrefined lumberjack!"

Johanna spits out blood from her mouth. "Oh, you're calling _me_ unrefined? How about we see a video of your Games?"

"Do you hear yourselves?" Haymitch barks. "This is exactly what Snow wanted; to divide us. Even from six feet under, you're letting him win. We didn't lose our friends so that you could act like immature girls."

His words seem to have a calming effect on both women, because they relax their stances. It's obvious they aren't friends, but it appears they've reached an understanding, one that only comes from knowing someone for years. We all grew up hearing about the legend of Haymitch Abernathy. After all, no other victor can say they outlived 49 tributes. He was also the first victor who changed the rules of winning.

Perhaps he should've been groomed to lead the rebellion, instead of me- although, I cringe to imagine the Mockingjay suit on him.

Enobaria glances around the room. "It's not just her, Haymitch. You all treat me differently because of my district's connection to the Capitol. But guess what? After Haymitch and Beetee, I'm the oldest victor left! Like you told me once, Johanna, I _am_ one of you. I'll rejoin this little party when you start remembering that."

With a huff, she trudges away from us, slips her jacket on, and leaves.

Peeta glances over to me. "Did you notice…?"

"Notice what?"

"Her teeth are normal again."


	2. Year Two- Haymitch

I haven't been to District 4 since Katniss and Peeta's Victory Tour. Now that I'm here, I almost forget why. District travel isn't forbidden anymore. This place sure is beautiful.

Victor's Village makes its home on a quaint beach, surrounded by water. The waves are calming. It's a good place to just sit down with a bottle of beer and contemplate. Which is exactly what I'm doing. My bare toes dig into the sand. Not sure if I like the sensation, but the District 4 victors always said it was one of their favorite pastimes. Winter has struck back in District 12, yet the temperature here is perfectly warm.

From a distance, Annie runs with her son; and Peeta and Katniss walk hand in hand. They're officially dating now, and they can barely stand to be apart. _Ick_. Was I ever like that with Rosemary? I hope not.

Of course, anything is better than seeing Peeta's hands on Katniss' throat.

"Haymitch Abernathy enjoys the beach? Never would've guessed."

I startle at the familiar voice, and when I look up, there's Enobaria.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," I say.

"Well, maybe I don't like some of you, but others, I don't mind so much." She winks at me.

"I'm flattered."

She rolls her eyes, smiling. Like Peeta indicated before, her sharp teeth have been filed back down to a normal shape. This will be a strange adjustment for me. I've never known her without those fangs. When I met her during her Victory Tour, they nearly gave me a heart attack.

"Guess I can't call you Queen of the Dead anymore, eh?" I ask.

"I'm sure you'll come up with something else," she jokes.

That woman always surprises me. Put her in The Hunger Games, and she's as lethal as a tiger. Outside the arena, she loves a good laugh. We've shared a drink or two. I think of her like a sister that I don't know exactly what to do with.

Thunder rolls over the sky.

"Better get inside before it pours," Enobaria says. "The weather could get nasty."

Oh, that's right. I forgot that she grew up in District 4. She knows what she's talking about.

As rain begins to fall, we rush up a staircase and escape indoors. All the homes in this Victor's Village are raised high, on the sturdiest beams the Capitol can afford. They get plenty of hurricanes around here. Luckily, it's not hurricane season.

We gather within Annie's spacious living room, all of us soaking wet. Annie turns on the giant ceiling fan to help us dry, and she gives us towels.

Then Beetee walks in.

I repeat, _walks in._ He's been in a wheelchair for so long, I have to gently pat him on the back for his accomplishment.

"Hey! Bet that feels good, eh?" I ask.

"Wonderful," Beetee agrees. "You have no idea how insufferable it is to not walk."

Annie's eyes bulge with concern. "Tell me you took the ramp, Beetee. Stairs must be awful for you."

"Yeah, I did, thanks."

"Good. Nice to see you walking again."

Enobaria watches us from afar, her eyes fixed on Beetee. I sense a mixture of emotions inside her. Guilt, because she's the reason that he became paralyzed. Relief, that it was only temporary. If the rebels hadn't saved him in time, he'd be dead. Then again, with the Quarter Quell arena exploding, Enobaria would be dead, too, alongside Peeta, Katniss and Johanna. Finnick would've just died earlier.

When the war ended, Annie and I would've been left alone. Just two victors picking up the pieces. I can't thank Plutarch enough for saving their lives.

I don't know why the heck Effie Trinket decided she, of all people, could organize these victor reunions, but she's with us now. Brought the largest umbrella I've ever seen. Unlike the rest of us, she's perfectly dry.

"Well, Miss Golding," she says, "I think you owe somebody an explanation for your behavior at our last meeting." She nods to Johanna.

"I owe _her_ an explanation?" Enobaria replies. " _She_ initiated the fight."

Effie purses her lips in a look I know well. The one that says, _don't argue with me._

"Fine… I'm sorry, Johanna, okay?"

"I still think you're a coward," Johanna sneers.

I see Katniss raise her eyebrows up and down quickly, showing her quiet agreement.

"Bravery never helped me, Mason. I managed to survive the Games, yeah, which might be considered brave, but I'm not proud of how I killed Link. The Capitol loved it, though, for some psycho reason. They altered my teeth without my permission. God, it was awful to wake up and discover I had… _fangs_. If that wasn't enough, I had to watch my family die."

"So did I!" Johanna yells. She almost looks on the edge of tears. "You think you're the only one?"

I feel the need to interject: "She's right. My old man was long gone before I was reaped, but they shot my mom and my little brother. The girl I loved, too."

Katniss grimaces, probably remembering when I confided this to her down in District 13.

Annie weeps softly. "They… they killed my sisters and my mom while I was held by the Capitol."

"And my family died in the District Twelve bombing," Peeta adds.

Effie passes around a tissue box, more for her benefit than ours. "You see? You're _all_ mourning. You're _all_ suffering. If you just quit acting like enemies, you might learn something from one another."

These moments happen a lot, I've noticed. The moments where Effie shows that she's not as dumb as she might appear. I start wondering if she's lost family, too. In all the years I've known her, she never mentioned them. Plenty of Capitol citizens died in the war. Must be a subject she doesn't feel comfortable talking about yet.

"Miss Mason and Miss Golding," she goes on, "will you please shake hands?"

"If it shuts you up," Johanna answers.

Enobaria sighs. "What she said."

Their hands only touch for a couple seconds, but I recognize something in their expressions: a mutual respect.

"I'm sort of the leader here, Effie," I argue. "Let me do the peacemaking."

"If you're such a leader, then what would your illuminating advice be?" she replies sarcastically.

I look between Johanna and Enobaria, grinning. "Don't kill each other."

It's a sign of our growth that we all begin to laugh at my words. We're less afraid of our pasts than we once were. We aren't exactly whole, and we probably won't ever be whole again.

But we're getting somewhere.


	3. Year Three- Annie

_"_ _I'll carry your world,_

 _And all your hurt."_

-Coldplay

It never gets any easier, being a single mom. More difficult when your son's a mirror image of your late husband. Rowan likes asking me questions about Finnick. First, they were harmless. Then, of course, it escalated to: _Why is Daddy not here?_ I won't tell him the whole story yet. Not for another ten years, probably. He just knows that his father can't return from where he's gone. Finnick wanted his ashes scattered into the ocean, right by Victor's Village, but they never found his body. When the rebellion ended, I sent out lily petals instead. The flowers he used to give me because they were my favorite. After I survived The Hunger Games, he greeted me with them. During my Victory Tour, too. And on our first date. Then, a few years later, when he asked me to be his forever. Somehow, District 13's gardeners managed to put together a lily bouquet for our wedding.

I carry more lilies in my arms today. We've all brought flowers and various tokens, items to lay down. The flowers aren't real, in light of the cold. The memorial is a ring of 74 granite slabs, built outside what used to be the Tribute Center. 74 Hunger Games. In the middle of the circle, there's a 75th slab to honor the fallen victors. Every one of them is listed, not just those who died in the Quarter Quell. _Freedom has a cost_ , the top reads. Words from that dreadful video we viewed at every reaping. 

"My dear victors," Effie begins solemnly, "today marks the third anniversary of President Snow's fall. It's sort of a celebration of freedom. But it's also a day for remembrance. And… forgiveness. You are all standing here because, sadly, you were forced into taking the lives of others. What I'm about to ask might be a little much. I'd like each of you to say the names of your… your victims and their districts. Then you'll place your tokens by their memorials. Peeta, will you go first?"

"Sure."

We follow him to the 74th Hunger Games memorial. The names are engraved by district; twenty- two, instead of the usual twenty-three. I can't help realizing that Peeta wouldn't be here if standard rules had applied.

"Mackenzie Lintz, District Eight," he says, placing a flower at the base.

Moving along, he faces the victors' memorial somberly.

"Daniel Bernhardt, District Nine." The man he drowned.

"Brutus Gunner, District Two."

We all watch Enobaria, gauging her reaction. Peeta killed her mentor and fellow tribute. She's never confirmed it, but I have a feeling they were more than friends once. She remains stoic, as though she's trained herself not to show emotions in public.

I wish it could be that simple for me.

"I'll go next," Enobaria says.

She admits to killing the girls from District 5 and District 12, and both tributes from District 1.

We all know about the District 1 boy: Link, the one Enobaria murdered with her teeth. I was really little then. I just remember watching those Games because it gave me nightmares. She'd been trapped, weaponless. Her only Quarter Quell victims are District 8's Cecelia Sanchez, and District 10's Tiffany Waxler.

 _Only_. I'm still thinking like a tribute, aren't I? _One is reasonable_ , Mags would say _. Two, maybe. Any more, and you should be questioning your sanity._

Coincidentally, Beetee volunteers after Enobaria; the sole person who has survived a brush with her knives. He places six flowers on the ground for the victims of his electric trap.

Johanna names three victims from her first Games. I'd thought it was a higher number because of her vicious behavior. Guess not. Then, with a heavy sigh, she revisits the victors shrine and says, "Cashmere Foxworthy, District One." They didn't have much in common at all, I'm sure… but I can't imagine how it would feel to kill somebody I knew.

Haymitch takes responsibility for "Liam Shields, District Two", "Josh Furhman, District Two", and "Sabrina Harrelson, District One." The girl he killed using the forcefield.

"Now you, Annie," Effie instructs.

Katniss speaks up in my place: "Effie… she didn't kill anybody."

"Oh! That's right; you won because of your incredible swimming skills."

 _Tell them_ , I think.

"In all honesty… you guys don't know what really happened. Everybody remembers how I survived when the arena flooded. But I wasn't always visible to the camera. That second-to-last tribute… she attacked me from underwater, pulled me down… so I fought back. I kept her there until she wasn't breathing…"

"Oh! Sweet Annie, doesn't it feel good to confide in us?"

"I guess it does," I admit.

I drag my feet over to the 71st plaque. My personal hell. Somehow, I manage to utter: "Stefanie Claflin, District Six."

Katniss grabs my hand for a moment. We've grown close since her mother came to live with me, and however angry she is, everything that's occurred has also brought out the kind side of her.

"Glimmer Rambin, District One," she begins. Death by tracker jacker.

"Marina Dawson, District Four." Second tracker jacker victim.

"Marvel Quaid, District One." The first human being her arrows ever struck. I see her eyes water, thinking of little Rue.

"Cato Ludwig, District Two." Her mercy killing.

When Katniss mentions Gloss, she finally bursts into tears. "C-can you believe I killed him in front of his… his sister? And I'd thought her interview was fake… I'm sorry… I'm just so sorry."

I've been letting anxiety swallow me up for years, when I barely did anything in the Games. Why? Besides killing once, all I managed to accomplish was running, hiding, scrounging up food, and eating, day by day. My burden's not nearly as heavy as the others.

Peeta clears his throat. "We can't undo what we did, I know. But it feels like maybe they're looking down on us and smiling. Like they've forgiven us. They won't have died in vain, as long as we remember them. That's what matters."

We don't even have to ask who _they_ are.

"Such a poet, you are, dear!" Effie remarks. "Now, you may take this time to honor your friends or allies who are no longer with us."

Johanna's got a stack of playing cards in her fingers, which she lays down under the 75th tablet. I follow her out of curiosity.

"That's for Blight, isn't it?" I ask.

She nods. "He loved his card games."

I remember watching him play solitaire at the mentor's table, being challenged by him to a game of blackjack or poker, like he did with other victors. He always beat me. I had to look away when he struck the forcefield.

Katniss and Peeta go back to the memorial for their Hunger Games. I think about the Quarter Quell, when Peeta fell dead. Finnick put all his energy into reviving him. That look he'd had in his eyes, watching Katniss grieve… He told me later it was because Katniss and Peeta reminded him of us; how agonizing it would've felt if I'd actually been his district partner. Sure, Mags _tried_ saving us from that pain. But we still ended up as star-crossed lovers. I'm happy for Katniss and Peeta, though. At this rate, I bet they'll get married soon.

Oh, Mags. I miss her. Out of respect, I've never watched her Games. She told me about her first district partner, who she'd known since childhood. His name was Tristan Chamberlain- and, as it turns out, he was Finnick's great-uncle! Mags and Tristan secretly loved each other. Unfortunately, it didn't come to light until they were tributes. I touch his engraved name, wondering if he was anything like Finnick.

Finnick.

Suddenly, my legs are giving out, and I've collapsed, weeping. What's a free country worth if you can't enjoy it with your true love?

Katniss drops beside me, touching my shoulder. "I miss him, too."

"He'd be so proud of what you did," I say. "You were like a sister to him."

Her arms wrap around me suddenly. Katniss Everdeen, a girl who's lost infinitely more than I have. We stare back at the victors memorial, as if reading their names will bring them to life again. District 2, District 3, District 4, District 7, and District 12 all have open spaces. I hope nothing will be added there for a very long time.

We've got so much ahead of us.


	4. Year Four- Beetee

My fellow victors are coming to the Victor's Penthouse today. Not many people have seen this apartment. Just my mother and Beck, who live with me. I won't let my remaining family out of my sight. Wasn't it yesterday that I met Wiress? Didn't I just kiss her for the first time? We'd been reassured of our safety.

Meaningless.

But I'm thankful I arranged Mother and Beck special passage to District 13- with help, of course. For the first month, I wasn't doing much of anything. Plutarch did it for me. They contributed their skills to keep the district happy, as was necessary. They wouldn't have been allowed to stay otherwise. Beck takes after me with his technological savvy, so he worked in maintenance, and Mother helped cook meals.

She stands at the doorway, ready to leave, Beck near her side.

"You don't want us to stay?" she asks. "I know this might be painful-"

"I'll be fine, Mother. It's not our first meeting."

"But I'm not sure you've had enough time to really… accept the way things are now."

She's partially right about that. I'd gotten into the annual rhythm of traveling to the Capitol with my district's children, not expecting any victory. This life where the Hunger Games don't exist still takes getting used to.

"It's a day-by-day adjustment," I tell her.

She tilts her head back, like she's trying not to cry. "Okay. Say hello to everyone for me."

I don't blame her for struggling. When I was ten years old, my father died- the Capitol referred to it as a factory accident. She became very different after that; less carefree. Then, she had to watch me in The Hunger Games. It caused her so much stress that her heart weakened. By the second time, while I narrowly clung to life, she went into cardiac arrest.

We're miracles, Mother and I.

"I'm really proud of you, Dad," Beck says. "Do you know that?"

"Not as proud as I am of you. It can't be easy, growing up without your mother."

Beck grimaces, almost a mirror image of Wiress when she made the same expression. "I do miss her. Then I think about nearly losing you, too… But you're here, and I can live however I want because of what you did in the revolution. That's enough for me."

"Thank you," I say, touching his shoulder. "Enjoy your lunch, and take good care of your grandmother."

I keep my eyes on them as they go. My son, oh, he's grown so much, and in so many ways. I still count my lucky stars that he never had to face a reaping. The Quarter Quell would've been his first. We all know how that went. He's sixteen years old now, like I was during my Games. This fact reminds me of why I fought to end The Hunger Games: so that Beck can just focus on learning a trade and being a decent person.

Everybody converges on Victor's Penthouse a few minutes later. I'm closest with Haymitch, who's only two years older than me. He gets a bad reputation because of his drinking, but he can be very intelligent. Plutarch didn't plan that jungle arena rescue on his own.

Katniss nods to me curtly. I can hardly look at her and not think of Primrose. That innocent girl, saved from the Games, only to be killed by my bombs… And the hundreds of other children who died in the explosions. President Coin, schemer that she was, had neglected to reveal her true plan. We'd been told only Capitol elites were at the mansion. I honestly thought nobody good would be hurt.

Maybe I'm not as smart as everybody says I am.

Once they all get settled, Peeta walks to the center of the room. He clasps his fingers together, breathing deeply.

"Okay. I've got some big news," he announces. "Katniss and I are getting married. For real, this time."

Effie gives a loud squeal. "My darlings! It's finally happening! Oh, there's so much to do… if you'll let me, of course."

"We actually _were_ thinking about hiring you, Effie," Katniss admits. "To help us plan everything."

"Nothing would make me happier. And forget the money. By this point, you should just call me Auntie Effie!" She practically squeezes Katniss and Peeta within her arms.

I look to Annie, who smiles half-heartedly. I offer a bittersweet grin. We both had that kind of love once; her with Finnick, and me with Wiress. Things feel emptier without them.

"Congratulations," I say.

"You mean to tell me there really _was_ something going on with you two during the Games?" Enobaria teases. "Could've fooled me."

"I saw this coming from a mile away," Johanna says, chuckling.

"A mile?" Haymitch asks. "More like a yard. Or a foot."

Katniss' cheeks bloom a scarlet tinge. "We'll send official invitations later, but we know it's going to be in District Twelve."

Annie suddenly rises, clearing her throat. "Since we're celebrating, I feel like I should tell you guys, I'm…seeing someone. His name's Sawyer. I've known him for a very long time, but we reconnected after our last meeting… and the best part is, he loves Rowan, too. I think you'd all like him."

"Wonderful!" Effie cheers.

Oh. I guess moving on isn't so difficult for some people.

The pizzas I ordered arrive, which brings us into the kitchen. Not everybody seems hungry yet, though. Katniss is peering through the windows, at the skyscrapers that compose my district. It must appear strange to her because she grew up in the countryside. City life is all I know.

"Nice view, isn't it?" I ask her. "If you couldn't tell, this is District Three's tallest building. The Capitol overestimated how many victors we'd get."

She turns and looks me in the eyes, something she hasn't done since the day Prim died. "We're inviting you to the wedding, too, you know."

"I wasn't aware that I'd earned your trust again."

"Peeta insisted," she replies quickly.

Sure he did. And that wasn't a definite response to what I said.

"I guess apologizing won't change how you feel, will it?" I ask.

"Probably not."

"Coin manipulated all of us, Katniss. She was good at that, especially if you were a technology expert confined to a wheelchair, stuck in an underground community. And I'd just lost Wiress… I wasn't exactly thinking clearly."

Katniss nods slowly. "Maybe someday, Beetee. Just give me some time."

"I understand."

I don't bother saying that it's already been four years. It can wait another four years, if it must. Because of her, I have all the time in the world.


	5. Year Five- Enobaria

_Heaven, we hope_

 _Is just up the road..._

 _Show me the way, Lord_

 _Cause I_

 _I'm about to explode…"_

-Coldplay

* * *

Katniss and Peeta's wedding is all that Panem can talk about. It was really nice, I have to say. And I'm finally getting to know our Mockingjay. She's not the frilly girl I saw twirling in her interviews. Like me, she loves being outside, exploring nature. They insisted on having the ceremony in District 12, on the grounds of a beautiful meadow. I guess it means a lot to them.

We're on my home turf now. District 2's Victors Village. My favorite part of my home is the open windows that show off the mountains. I never get tired of their white, jagged edges. Peacekeepers used to stand guard outside at all hours. Feels like yesterday.

But now, I'm in charge of them.

Haymitch won't let me forget it as he walks into my foyer. "There she is!" he calls. "Our new Head Peacekeeper!"

"That's right, so behave yourself."

Peeta laughs from behind him, Katniss by his side. "He doesn't know how to, Enobaria."

Katniss and Haymitch quickly flock to the dining room, where Effie Trinket and my other fellow victors are digging into snacks and drinks. Not Peeta.

"What's going on in that pretty boy head of yours?" I tease.

"I was just thinking about Brutus. It happens every time I see you. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the impression you two had something… something bigger than friendship."

My cheeks start burning. Maybe I _did_ love Brutus. I've realized that lately. Neither of us thought relationships were a good idea because of our circumstances, but I could talk about everything with him. He really understood me. Sometimes, our encounters involved no talking whatsoever.

"What gave it away?" I ask.

"I caught the looks you gave each other. And your reaction when I killed him. Like you were in the middle of your worst nightmare. I feel so terrible even now…"

"I did nothing to help you and Johanna," I argue. "And you know I would've killed you if the arena hadn't exploded."

"We'd never have been in that situation if it weren't for the Games, Enobaria. I can't think of a single person here who doesn't have regrets."

Peeta Mellark always crafts the right words for a situation. Words that are leaving me speechless. I can only produce a slight nod in answer.

The inside of my jacket vibrates. It's my mobile business phone. I don't receive calls unless they are extremely important. So I run into my bedroom, close the door, and pick up.

"This is Head Peacekeeper Golding," I answer.

A female voice says: "Yes, ma'am. It's Collins. I wanted you to know as soon as possible… We got him."

I swear, all the air has gone out of my lungs. "The very last Gamemaker?"

"That's right," she tells me.

We've been hunting them down for evaluation since the rebellion ended, no matter how long ago they worked. Can't let them pose a threat to our newfound peace. All of us agreed to give Plutarch the first official pardon. I thought I'd known the meaning of sacrifice until he revealed his true self to me. The only reason I didn't ally with him was because, well… I cared more about myself than a teenage girl. Katniss wasn't going to free Panem singlehandedly. Brutus, Gloss, and Cashmere felt the same way. I mean, really. Rebels had _always_ existed, according to good old Mags. God rest her soul.

The majority of Gamemakers said they'd love to have their old jobs back- so we executed them. I doubt this guy is any different.

"Thanks for the info, Collins. I owe you one. I'll be at headquarters within in the hour to interrogate."

After putting on my uniform, I bid goodbye to our party. Effie gives me concerned eyes- something Doris never did. She's not like the other escorts I've known.

"Is everything all right, dear?"

"It will be," I reply.

"You come to District Seven," Johanna says, "and we'll duke it out at my private target range, bloodsucker."

"I'm no bloodsucker, Mason. Never was."

She just shrugs. "Old habit."

"That reminds me. Hey, Everdeen, I expect some archery lessons in the near future."

"Really?" Katniss replies, eyebrows up.

"Yes, really," I admit. "Your skills are impressive. I want to learn from the best."

"Okay, then."

The Girl on Fire is warming up to me. Finally.

* * *

"Wayde Jacoby, of District Two." I peer at my tablet. "I see you served as a Gamemaker from the fifty-second Hunger Games, to… the seventy-fifth Hunger Games." Which means that he helped orchestrate my televised spiral into darkness.

 _I hate this man already._ Jacoby looks around fifty years old, with annoyingly loud teal hair. Those rainbow suspenders he wears are obnoxious. How did he evade us?

"I'd do it again, too," he says, grinning sadistically. "I'll tell you, it was an honor to serve the Capitol. We had to keep your districts in line, otherwise Panem would self-destruct. Being at the controls gave me such pride. I mean, ending a tribute with the press of a button! What more could you want?"

Strapped to my side is a pistol, licensed to me by the Peacekeeper Union. There was a time when I never dreamed of using guns. I knew every other weapon, so there was no point. Today, the gun is all I use, and I don't mind being executioner when it comes to these evil, terrible people. People who scream _guilty_.

I unlock the safety. "Do you want to reconsider your statement, Jacoby?"

"I should've made sure those jaguars chomped you to bits-"

My fingers coil tightly around the trigger. He drops to the floor, blood trickling from his forehead. I confirm it to be a success when I check his pulse.

My very. Last. Kill.


	6. Year Six- Johanna

Another year, another victor 'party' by Effie Trinket.

Here in District 7, Victor's Village is more like a cabin retreat than a neighborhood, made of the finest cedar. Wood has always smelled incredible to me. With a blizzard arriving later, everybody will have to stay the night. Haha. But luckily for them, there are extra rooms. All the other houses are occupied. That's one thing I like about my post-Hunger Games life: We've given shelter to dozens of poor people, at least until they build up their incomes. I hosted a few guests over the years, but they moved out.

You should see my backyard. There's so much space, I've built two targets side by side, with a protective iron wall behind them. My ideal axe range. Throwing is a fabulous stress reliever- something I desperately needed once I came of reaping age. Katniss likes to shoot whenever she comes over, and she's taught me, too. I still like axes better.

At the moment, Enobaria and I are going head-to-head, testing our axe-throwing abilities. We've managed to tolerate each other enough to work out our differences. This is our equivalent of girl time. Effie, Beetee and Annie watch from a safe distance. They don't seem to mind the freezing cold. None of the District 12 victors are here yet, which is bizarre. They make up a third of our group.

Enobaria's axe buries itself in the bullseye of her target. I just executed a perfect throw myself, so we're both feeling confident.

"Yes!" she cheers. "I _told_ you I wasn't losing my skills. Middle age can suck it!"

I scoff. "Please. You've only thrown once. Could you do that every single time?"

"Seriously, Mason? You said it yourself: I only threw once. You know, I think you might be Andrea incarnate. Without the red hair."

"That District One girl you killed who loved the axe?" I ask. "What an honor. I seem to remember throwing an axe at your head."

"You missed."

Six years after this incident, we're actually laughing about it. A victor thing, I guess. She's grown on me. You might even say that we've become friends. I could definitely use friends.

"I mentioned Andrea," Enobaria says. "I guess you would've been too little to see my Games when they happened?"

"Yeah. I caught highlights once, though, but I hardly remember it. I'd rather not watch another one of those for as long as I live."

She nods. "You and me both. I worked my butt off to get every single copy of the video destroyed. Nothing you don't know about."

Speaking of Enobaria, guess who she recruited for the Peacekeeper Union? _This_ crazy axe girl. To that, I said, _heck yes!_

I know what you're thinking: _Jo, are you insane?_ Okay, yes, I am, but Peacekeepers _are_ good now. They've become like, uh, what is it they were called before? Oh, right. Police officers. They still train in District 2. Once you're a genuine Peacekeeper, you get to decide your work location. I chose District 7. What can I say? Home breathes life into me. Even after my whole family was slaughtered there, I never dreamed of leaving.

It was the only thing Snow couldn't take away from me.

So, that's what I've been up to- aside from the whole Gale thing (don't ask).

Enobaria and I continue our battle, but we're evenly matched. For every bullseye I get, she does the same. She has herself a nice blacksmith shop back at her house. Name your weapon and she can build it. Apparently, though, her first job was making axes.

As we retrieve them from the targets, Annie comes over to ask, "Can you teach me, Jo? It looks kind of fun."

"Sure, Red," I say.

 _Fun_ isn't the word I'd use. Not when you throw to kill. My dreams still conjure up images of a gorgeous blonde woman, falling backwards, with my axe protruding from her chest. Don't even get me started on the damage I inflicted during my first round in the arena. But Annie's a hard girl to say no to. We won The Hunger Games back to back, and we were born just a few months apart. Everybody likes her. Let me tell you, popularity goes a long way as a tribute. Not that I would know.

I teach Annie the proper way to hold her axe, where to position herself for better aim, and, of course, throwing technique. She does pretty well for her first try. Other people will miss the target completely, but she doesn't. The blade lands near the center, actually. Annie's cheeks widen to form a proud smile.

"Not bad," I say, nodding in approval. She's got quite the aim.

Snowflakes have begun to float down, and Annie opens her palms up to catch some on her gloves.

"You don't ever see this in Four," she says, giggling. "I only experienced real winter for the first time on my Victory Tour. You guys talk about how much fun it can be… Oh, hey! When there's enough snow, we should go skiing or sledding."

"I'm up for that," Enobaria agrees.

Beetee shakes his head, grinning. "I wish, but my condition isn't the best."

"You could always borrow my snowshoes," I suggest. "They're one size fits all. Or, there's my snowmobile."

"I'd much rather sit by the fireplace," Effie comments, pulling up the hood of her coat.

Figures. She's the only person here annoyed by snow. Which is hilarious. The Capitol gets tons of it every year.

I roll my eyes. "Fine, lady. We can go in for a while, until our coal friends decide to show."

Two hours pass before I hear a knock on my door. By then, we're all freaking impatient.

"I'm sure you've got a good excuse, brainless," I tease as I turn the knob. "Not making out with the bread boy, are you…"

When I take in the sight before me, whatever snarky thing I might usually say disappears from my lips. Peeta and Katniss cling to each other. Their eyes are puffy and stained with tears. Something terrible has occurred. Did her mother die? Someone else they loved?

"What happened?" I ask, using a gentler voice.

"There was an emergency, so we took a later train," Peeta says.

We all gather around to say hello, but what alarms me further is the way they embrace us individually. Like they may never see us again. Only then do I realize who _isn't_ beside them- and my stomach drops.

"Haymitch," Katniss chokes out. "He's dead."


	7. Year Seven- Peeta

_"…_ _Because death is just so full,_

 _And man so small_

 _Well, I'm scared of what's behind…_

 _And what's before…"_

-Mumford and Sons

* * *

I _knew_ Haymitch should've quit drinking. That's what killed him, so the autopsy said. Not the Second Quarter Quell. Not the war.

Drinking.

Year by year, his liver wasted away. With his fame, he could've easily gone to the Capitol for a liver transplant, but he did nothing about it. Katniss and I found him lying on his couch. Not breathing. No pulse.

I remember how it feels to die. There's no way I could ever forget it, even after seven years. My chest throbbed and burned like I'd been run through with a sword. To open my eyes again, seeing Finnick hunched over me, was more than a little surprising. He didn't strike me as a guy who'd resuscitate his competition. From then on, I trusted him beyond all doubt.

Yet another person who deserved life.

Today, Katniss and I are hosting the other victors at our house. It was mine originally. The house Katniss once lived in with her mother and Prim is occupied by others now. Though we've rebuilt much of District 12, Victor's Village is the best-preserved neighborhood from before the war. I do like one major change: the new bakery. Katniss and I decorated it together, hanging my artwork onto pastel green walls. The exact color she loves best. We topped it off with state-of-the-art, stainless steel kitchen equipment.

Katniss stands by the oven, where my banana chocolate chip muffins are baking. They'll be a great snack for our friends today.

"Are they almost done?" I ask.

"Just a few seconds." Surely enough, the oven timer beeps. I look on as my wife takes the muffins out.

 _My wife_. Two years in, and I can't get over the fact that Katniss Everdeen chose to marry me. No more

playing games. No more faking. I'm not sure exactly when she realized her feelings, but for me, it was that kiss we shared on the beach. When she said, _I need you._ Katniss doesn't trust many people, let alone need them. _If I am somebody worth needing_ , I thought, _then maybe I shouldn't count myself out so fast._ She wasn't ready to give up on me. So neither was I. In this moment, my crush blossomed into love.

We bundle up the muffins in foil and stroll back to our house, bracing ourselves against the cold.

"I guess we lost track of time," Katniss says when the front porch comes into view.

The whole victor party stands there with frail smiles. Annie wears her seashell necklace, a District Four symbol of marriage. Although she's been dating Sawyer for years, I never would've thought she'd marry again. It's nice to see her get a second chance at love.

Katniss quickly unlocks the door, and I start a fire so that we can get warm. Nobody talks much at first. Not like we used to.

Then again, the most talkative person among us is gone.

Johanna carries a tote bag under her arm, and she sets it on the dining table. She's taken to baking apple pies, using apples from her own backyard. Personally, I think her pies are even better than mine.

But the giant bottle she pulls out concerns me.

"I thought we'd share a drink… for him."

My eyebrows shoot up. "Seriously?"

"Relax, bread boy," she says. "It's just sparkling grape juice. No alcohol. See?" She waves the bottle in my face, allowing me to read the label.

"Oh. Never mind, then. Thanks, Johanna. I was hoping we'd do something like that, actually. Has a year really gone by already?"

His name rings in the silence.

Effie dabs an eye with her finger, sniffling. "Perhaps we should each say a few words about Haymitch before we make the toast."

Part of me is thinking, _Please, no. I don't want this to be his funeral all over again_. That was hard enough. For a man who didn't seem to like many people- I know he once loathed Katniss and me- he sure had plenty of mourners.

"How about we share memories?" I suggest.

We take our seats at the table, filling up glasses with the sparkling juice.

Beetee rises first. "I knew Haymitch longest, so I guess I'll start. As far as personalities go, we couldn't have been more different. And yet I liked him from the beginning. He was incredibly smart- not in the way I am, but very smart. He… He became my inspiration when I was a tribute."

"He would constantly tease me about those ridiculous fangs," Enobaria says, chuckling. "That was his thing, wasn't it? Making light of the dark stuff."

"It sure was," I agree. I still have no clue how he managed to laugh while everything crumbled around us.

Johanna stares up at the ceiling. "When I met Haymitch, I swear, he reminded me of my grandfather. Always carrying a drink. It killed him, too… Anyway, I miss his snarkiness."

"He wasn't snarky with me," Annie confesses. "That breakdown I had, after my Games, it must've brought out his sensitive side. I kind of thought of him as an honorary uncle."

Katniss is unable to stifle a laugh. "He definitely wasn't nice to Peeta and me. Not in the beginning. But now I see he was just afraid. He didn't want to care about two kids who were going to die. After the Games, though, he really was our family."

"You could depend on him to be there," I say. "He didn't even have to speak. Just being there was enough sometimes."

Like if you're choking the girl you love to death. I'll never forgive myself for that. Thank God Haymitch and Boggs intervened.

Effie coughs. "He was a tortured soul, but you could still find the man beneath it. To a fearless mentor and friend. To Haymitch."

"To Haymitch," we echo, raising our glasses high. The juice is comforting as it goes down my throat, with sweet flavor that tastes like summer on the meadow.

And I can believe he's always with us.

 ***Author's Note*- I know it took way too long for this next chapter lol. Thanks for your patience. I'll see you in the new year!**


	8. Year Eight- Effie

Well, of course I don't belong among these victors. Yet I'm the only Capitol person whom- and I'm using their words- they consider a friend. I count myself lucky that I get invited to their yearly reunions.

Feels like only yesterday that I was beginning a career as an escort, a bundle of nerves and excitement. Oh, how much fun it would be, to get up close and personal with real Hunger Games tributes!

I wasn't prepared.

Even if Katniss never acted like a lady should behave, something has always felt different about her. That was obvious when she volunteered- and may her dear sister rest in peace! I feel grateful that my parents survived the Capitol riots. They escaped to seek refuge in District 1, where they are to this day.

Such good fortune didn't include my younger brother, Theo, or his wife and daughter. Valerie, my precious niece. They refused to leave. I miss them every single day, but what can I do? Their bodies are long gone.

We all lost something in the war. Still, I gained something, too: an extended family. They'll have the pleasure of touring the house I bought last month. It's not downtown, where I was born and raised, but something about a real house is just comforting. As a matter of fact, I drew up every inch myself. Yours truly has become a top interior designer! My office is in the city, so it's a fair trade. You wouldn't believe how quickly it rebounded from being a warzone. All I see now are strong buildings and stronger people.

The doorbell rings.

 _Speaking of my extended family…_

Upon opening my door, Annie's face smiles back at me. Sometimes, I can still picture that sixteen-year-old, mousy redhead who charmed the Capitol with her friendliness. She is nearly thirty now.

"Hello, dear," I say. I asked her to bring her husband, too, but he appears to be missing. "Sawyer decided not to come?"

"He didn't think it was his place."

I certainly understand that. How can I pretend to really know my friends, when I never spent a second in the arena? What a sham I must seem like.

"I told Rowan about the Hunger Games," Annie suddenly confesses.

"You did?" I ask, hoping that my disapproval shows. "Isn't he still too young for that?"

She plants a hand to her forehead. "Oh, come on… Mari Everdeen already gave me a lecture, and I don't need another one. My son is nine, Effie. If we had to watch the Games at his age, then he can handle learning what his father and I went through!"

A memory strikes me at that moment:

 _I'm a little girl, wearing a brand new dress to my grandparents' house. The whole Trinket clan is there, from cousins to aunts and uncles. We eat dinner together like every holiday, only afterwards, we gather around the TV._

 _The parade of tributes is tonight, and I can't wait to see what they wear. It's my favorite part- besides the interviews, anyway. My attention is caught by a girl in construction gear. She comes from District Two. Her masculine frame only makes her look fiercer, and I know immediately that I'll be cheering for her._

 _Two weeks later, my eyes are glued to our screen. These are the first Games I'll get to watch in their entirety; until today, I've only been allowed to see what happens beforehand. I'd begged and screamed and cried, said I was ready. So here I am._

"… _Five, four, three, two, one…"_

 _Tributes are struggling to run, because they're stuck inside a gigantic swamp. District Two girl moves steadily despite this. She even reaches the Cornucopia first, taking an axe and a sword._

 _I know exactly what they're for._

 _Then Phoebe- I just remembered her name- goes back out. She finds another girl close by and trudges behind her. Before the girl can react, Phoebe plunges her sword into the girl's spine._

 _A scream fights its way up my throat, but I swallow it down. I can't have anyone thinking I'm weak. I'm not a baby anymore. I'm seven years old!_

" _Do you need to leave, Effie?" Mom asks._

" _No!" I cry. "It's fine."_

 _I force myself to witness Phoebe as she brings the axe down on her victim's neck, severing the head._

She was the future Commander Lyme. If she hadn't been killed by a Capitol pod, I'd be waiting for her right now. Cruel, that she never really escaped The Hunger Games. The whole thing was just awful.

 _Why did I even become an escort, then,_ you might ask? I still enjoyed watching our country unite, celebrating each district and their heritage.

Thinking about my past makes me want to vomit.

Annie's voice pulls me back: "Effie? Are you okay?"

"Yes, dear. I was lost in thought."

"Looks like everybody's here," she says, glancing behind her. They are plain to see past the glass door.

When I've properly welcomed my friends, I grab Katniss by the wrist.

"You'll never believe what Annie just said-"

"Yeah, we know," Johanna interrupts. "She called each of us to vote on it. I said, why not?"

"He's a little boy!" I argue.

"So?"

Annie takes my hand gently. "We didn't actually show him the Games. All we did was talk."

"That's what we agreed on," Katniss says.

"Besides, _you're_ not his mother," Enobaria adds, glaring at me. Of course, she's right. I used to assume that I knew better than our victors, that I had to steer them myself, or they would fail spectacularly. But I've learned more from them in a decade than I learned in the previous thirty years. So I offer no further complaints.

They always know better.


	9. Year Nine- Katniss

_"_ _If we lose our grip, meet you at the end…"_

\- Tove Lo

* * *

Today feels… cozy. I sit on the couch beside a fire, watching the snow fall, with Buttercup in my lap. Annie and Rowan are out building a snowman. They've been visiting this past week. A delicious scent begins swimming through my nostrils, and I breathe it in gratefully. Must be the miniature soufflés Peeta wanted to bake for today's meeting. I call them meetings because "parties" just sounds… too much like the Capitol.

Buttercup, who never quits moving, jumps down, even though I was perfectly still. Oh well. I have no control over him. Now would be a good time to go help Peeta. I get to work mixing hot chocolate, and then I hear the door open.

Rowan kicks off his boots on the doormat and hangs up his coat. Annie is much slower to remove her snow gear. She requires my help because of her bulging stomach. Pretty soon, Rowan will have a sister.

"We've got company," he announces cheerfully.

Right on cue, Effie, Beetee, Johanna and Enobaria arrive together. The easiest arrangement for our group has always been to simply meet at the train station, then rent a car. Panem is hard at work reviving the automobile industry, which also requires massive road construction. Meanwhile, driving schools are popping up around the country. I myself just earned my driver's license. How strange it feels, and much less natural than walking.

We don't get far into our dinner when a figure materializes: a man in his twenties, athletically built, flashing his pearly white teeth, wearing a purple wetsuit. Gloss.

This happens sometimes. It's either him, Marvel, Cato, Glimmer, or any of the other people I killed. Even that innocent Capitol woman. They won't leave me alone.

Annie comes to my side, concern glossing her blue eyes. "What's wrong, Katniss?"

"Do you ever think about… you know… the District Six girl?"

"I don't know anybody from District Six," she replies.

"You know who I mean. The girl you drowned."

Annie's face stretches in horror. "I did that? How awful… You're sure?"

The room goes dead silent, except for Beetee, who drops his glass.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"It's only water," Peeta assures him, "and don't worry about a little cup. We can always replace it." He carefully wipes up the mess, but Annie's words have me nauseated.

She has gone into another breakdown. I should've foreseen this. Mom says that people with PTSD- people like us- often pretend that everything's fine. That nothing broke us into pieces. My mother did the complete opposite. It consumed her. Me, I have bad days. But forgetting what I did?

Never.

"Red," Johanna says, "you told us yourself."

"Then how come I'm not being punished for it?"

We stare at one another, hoping someone will provide a good answer.

Enobaria manages to get out, "That's a bit hard to explain…"

"You killed in self-defense," Beetee offers plainly.

"So, I drowned a girl who was trying to kill me," Annie concludes. "Why?"

Johanna grabs Annie's arms, a manic look in her eyes. I can tell she's fighting the urge to shake her. "You can't forget, Red! How can you forget?"

"Don't push her, Johanna," Peeta says. "She didn't choose what she remembers."

He's referring to the hi-jacking, of course. I don't have the luxury of erasing those memories. Perhaps Annie endured some hi-jacking, too, back at the Capitol dungeons, but I won't ask her. I didn't bother getting to know her until Finnick was gone.

Rowan chimes in, "Mama, you said it was The Hunger-"

Peeta seizes his wrist. "Let's go upstairs, buddy. I'll let you eat in your room."

"You will? Thanks, Mister Mellark."

"Call me Peeta, you silly goose," my husband says, ruffling Rowan's hair. He gives the boy his mini soufflé; and they walk away together, smiling.

"Annie, dear," Effie offers, "I think you should leave for a moment."

"Why, so you can laugh at me behind my back?"

"Not at all. We'll be discussing ways to help you."

Annie sighs deeply. "Whatever." She goes up to meet Peeta and Rowan, a flurry of crimson.

"Is it because she's pregnant?" Enobaria wonders aloud.

"Could be," I reply. Mom frequently sees patients who are expecting, so she's given Annie plenty of advice. But this didn't happen with Annie's first child. It was a relatively normal process, despite losing Finnick. Her behavior perplexes me as much as it perplexes her. Johanna, of course, is all for reminding Annie about the dark past we share.

We eventually decide that what she needs right now is normalcy.

Once Annie returns, it's with a sour expression, arms folded. "Are we gonna pretend I wasn't just accused of murder?"

"Honestly..." What I say next has got to be my greatest performance ever. "You wouldn't harm a bug. Everybody knows that. But I've had dreams where you're drowning a girl, who has the District 6 logo on her shirt. Don't ask me why. Dreams never make any sense… And they can feel too real sometimes. You know?"

"Yeah…"

"It got into my head, Annie. I really should've just kept my mouth shut. Then I had to go tell Johanna and the others. Bad move on my part."

"Some creepy dreams you have, brainless," Johanna agrees. "She even had me going crazy- Ha! Trust me, Red, you're better off ignoring our antics."

Annie nods, pacing the room. "Peeta mentioned something about me not being able to choose what I remember."

"Because you didn't remember that I told you my dream before," I explain.

"I guess I didn't, huh? I've always wondered how our brains work as we're sleeping. Weird stuff."

"Yeah." Fibbing leaves an oh-too familiar taste on my lips, which I detest. I only do it for Annie, the closest friend I've had since Madge.

Beetee touches Annie's shoulder. "Sorry that we confused you. We should've been truthful from the beginning."

"Hey, I'd be confused, too, if I dreamed about any of you being murderers… Except for Johanna."

"You know I can't make any promises," Johanna says, twirling her knife and laughing.

We all laugh along, but it does nothing to stop the queasiness that burrows into my guts.


	10. Year Ten- Annie

People from the Capitol are swarming my house today. Effie says it's part of some anniversary. I don't know why I feel such tension among Katniss, Peeta, Enobaria, Beetee, or Johanna. We're together for a good reason, aren't we? I'm busy looking at the miniature film studio that's being set up in my living room. Cameras face my couch at various angles. I guess I'm a bit famous. Sawyer has gone for a walk with Rowan and baby Mags.

A man with bright yellow hair is speaking to Katniss, and he glances my way briefly. I feel like I know this man. Where have I seen him before?

I get close enough to hear: "…Good old Caesar will take care of everything. Don't you worry!"

 _Caesar?_ That name…

I'm looking into the face of Caesar Flickerman. Last time I saw him, we stood right in this same room. Talking about District Four's star-crossed lovers. Finnick and me.

Wait. How did Finnick die again? I can't remember. It must've been a freak accident. How did we even meet? And how did I meet these friends of mine, who come from all over the country? I know it was something major…

This is so frustrating.

Katniss jumps a little when she sees me. "Annie! Hey. Do you remember C-"

"Caesar Flickerman," I reply, shaking his hand. "Yeah, I know you. You were all over the Capitol news back in the day. Didn't you retire?"

"Why, yes, but we're filming a special, and they asked for me by name. Wonderful to see you again, Mrs. Lawrence!"

So he knows my married name, yet I don't know my connection to him. I can't help glancing at each of my friends in confusion.

"You still haven't explained what's going on."

Nobody looks at me.

Peeta is the one who meets my eyes, takes a deep breath, and speaks. "Annie, there's a giant hole in your memories. Awful memories that you're better off forgetting. But I want you to get them back-"

"Peeta," Katniss whispers.

"No, Katniss. I can't keep this up anymore, and we never should've done it. Annie shouldn't lose such a big part of herself."

"Let me be the judge here," I say. "What am I missing?"

"Just listen to Caesar."

Before I ask more questions, the cameras begin to roll, zeroing in on Caesar. "Good afternoon, Panem! Today, we remember The Hunger Games. The spectacle. The violence. How we cheered for our favorite tributes, mourned them when they died, and celebrated those who survived to the finish. Maybe you even sponsored one or two. Impossibly, ten years have passed since the infamous Third Quarter Quell. Ah, yes; the Games to end all Games. Our victors were thrust back into the spotlight as they battled to the death for a second time. It became the shortest Games in history, lasting only seventy-two hours. At exactly midnight, the Girl on Fire, Katniss Everdeen-Mellark, released a lethal arrow, and the jungle arena went down in flames. There would've been no survivors, if it weren't for a daring rescue. Out of seventy-five victors, sixty-nine are, sadly, no longer with us. But I am here with the remaining six! Ten years later, they are older, wiser, and they still make us proud. Let's see how they're doing, shall we?"

"The Hunger Games," I whisper.

Suddenly, everything floods back to me. I remember days of failed hunting and starvation, living out of a backpack. Warren's head rolling off his neck when our allies didn't want him anymore. The water rushing at me. My hands keeping District Six girl under while I struggled for breath. Mags, taking my place some years later; walking into a deadly mist as Finnick cried out her name. Nobody could pull me from my viewing chair that day.

"Oh my God," I say. "It was real. Warren!"

I can't bear watching my district partner die again. But I see it replay. Oh, he was too young. Just twelve years old. I start vomiting onto my beautiful floors, and salt water trickles down my cheeks. In a flash, I race to the bathroom, coiling around the toilet. When I'm done emptying today's breakfast, I wipe my face and put on a new shirt. Then I brush my teeth for good measure.

Johanna finds me.

"It was real," I repeat to her.

"Yes it was, Red. That's how we all know one another. We made up the dream to give you a touch of normal in your life. We didn't really think about how you'd react. If it helps, I didn't like hiding that from you, but I got outvoted. Finnick's probably rolling in his grave." She pats me on the back gently, which relieves some of the tension I feel.

"I'm glad you tried, Jo."

Back in the living room, Caesar and Beetee are talking about his latest projects. I don't speak until the interview has finished. By then, my anger is seething just beyond the surface, ready to burst. He's the eldest of us. He should've known better than to keep me in the dark.

"So," I begin, "all of you decided to fake a dream, knowing everything I'd been through, because somehow, you thought it would make things easier for me?"

"Like I said, I was against it!" Johanna protests.

The others aren't so defensive. In fact, Katniss looks very guilty.

"You were doing okay," she mutters. "Then you got pregnant again, and you started acting like The Hunger Games never happened. I thought it might be… a blessing in disguise. Too much stress could've ended with a miscarriage."

"I carried Rowan to full term just fine, with all the memories intact," I argue.

"Don't you know how you were before?" Beetee asked.

"Always jumping at the slightest noise," Enobaria says. "Screaming at nothing."

I shake my head, sighing. "Yeah, that was me. I'll admit, you meant well. But Finnick… Mags… They would be ashamed of you guys. They didn't sacrifice themselves because they felt like it. They fought because of the Games. Mags even died for me! Don't they deserve to be remembered? We can't repeat our past mistakes, no matter how terrible. Forgetting isn't an option."

"You've never wanted a reset button on life?" Peeta asks.

"I'd rather know everything than be coddled by my closest friends! You know what? I'm going to find Sawyer and the kids. Anywhere but here."

"Hold on," Caesar says, gesturing towards the chairs. "Would you mind talking with me first?"

He's got nerve, I'll give him that. Then again, he did nothing wrong. Maybe telling him what I've been doing the past ten years will cheer me up. Once the camera stops recording, I jump for the doors, anxious to see my family. Not these people who don't share a drop of my blood.

I guess we're still playing games after all.


	11. Year Eleven- Beetee

_"_ _Sometimes the wire must tense for the note."_

-Coldplay

* * *

I can hardly keep down my enthusiasm as I open the door for Johanna. She's the last one to arrive, and she immediately flashes me a smirk. Of course she can see how thrilled I am.

"What's on your mind, Volts?"

"Something big is about to happen, and I think you're going to like it. Just follow me into the dining room…"

She settles at my table beside Annie- who only came because of Johanna. The rest of us haven't seen Annie for an entire year. I hope she comes around to us again soon. But I convinced her this was important. A 'victors-only' situation, with no Effie Trinket to give up her opinions. So, I'll cut to the chase.

"Enobaria," I say, "will you do the honors?"

Our Head Peacekeeper nods, tucking some gray strands of hair behind her ear. "As everybody here knows, our country's economy took a huge blow from the war. It's growing back nicely, though. I met with President Paylor, and you might want to sit down for this… The government has saved up the funds to tear down all seventy-five arenas."

She and I have known about this for months, but I was sworn to secrecy. Hearing those words aloud is a breath of fresh air. Judging by the relief on everybody's faces, we're all pleased.

Katniss sighs. "I almost thought they'd be kept up forever."

"We get to do it ourselves, right?" Johanna asks.

"You bet we do," Enobaria replies, smiling. "Paylor agreed. Good old Beetee here created the explosives already."

I nod. "They've been wired together from end to end. All we have to do is press the big red button. Of course, there are seventy-five arenas, so it'll take a few weeks."

"There's nothing left of the last arena," Peeta argues.

"Actually, Katniss' arrow didn't blow up the entire place. Not cleanly, like we'll be doing. So we are going back there, too."

"Oh joy," Johanna comments, staring at the ceiling.

* * *

A month passes before the six of us board a luxury hovercraft, which is loaded with everything we need for a long journey. There are bunk beds, a bathroom, kitchen, and an entertainment room. Enobaria hired two Peacekeepers as pilots.

We gather inside the entertainment room, and I connect my tablet to the room's large, flat-screen television. Time for briefing.

"We have about two hours until we reach arena number one," I tell everyone, pulling up our map for all to see.

Seventy-five dots stretch across a vast country. I've seen this a few times, yet it never ceases to amaze me. Panem is gigantic. I can see how the Capitol managed to build arenas without any outside interference.

"Where is it exactly?" Peeta asks.

"On the east coast," I explain, "right where the capital used to be, so I hear. My grandparents called it Washington, D.C. Flooding took most of the city down, but that didn't stop Gamemakers."

"Like anything stopped them," Katniss says, probably referring to Plutarch.

We keep ourselves busy during flight, but sooner than I know it, we're approaching the sight of the very first Hunger Games. We aren't making a landing. Too dangerous.

"Here's where it all started," Annie whispers, peering out the window.

That's all that needs to be said. Everything changed within this domed prison, set against the backdrop of a ruined city.

I lead us to my bomb detonator. Just a simple button on a pedestal, yet it's wirelessly connected to the ground, ready for action.

"Who should do the honors?" I ask.

Johanna strides forward with an eager grin. "So glad you asked, Volts."

"Remember what I said before: just press that button."

Crossing my fingers, I watch her palm go down; and below us, sparks begin to ignite. Flames rise from those sparks. It's all controlled, so it won't set off a wildfire, but the hovercraft is equipped with an aerial extinguisher. We stay until the last ember dies, just to be sure.

So it begins. We alternate every time, so we each get a fair shot. Our chance to finally rid ourselves of The Hunger Games.

At each demolition, we hold a moment of silence for the dead victors, even those we never met. Nobody sleeps much. Seeing the 11th Hunger Games arena, where Mags dominated, causes Annie to bawl. Which I completely understand. Mags is the only reason she didn't become a tribute twice.

By the time we reach arena fifty, a somber mood fills the air. _Haymitch_. My good friend. Somehow, he faced double the tributes. Double the obstacles. He would've gladly demolished the place with his bare hands, but Peeta goes instead.

Three more arenas until we get to mine. Being the eldest victor alive feels like a burden sometimes, too much of a responsibility. Not here. Here, I get to play Gamemaker. So when I press that bomb detonator, goosebumps crawl up my arms. I have the privilege again two arenas later, for Wiress. It doesn't seem right that she isn't with us. With me. At least I can offer her this.

Some time later, we reach Finnick's arena. Annie is given the floor without question.

"This is for you, Finn," she says as her fingers touch the button.

Johanna is too eager once we reach the arena of her first Games. She wastes no time, slamming her fist down on the detonator. She cheers as the fireworks begin.

The next arena is Annie's- and who knows how she'll react. When the moment comes, Johanna finds her curled up in a fetal position by her bed.

"Hey, Red, get up," we hear from outside the door. "I won't have you cowering. You won the freaking Hunger Games! Show that arena you mean business."

Annie quickly recovers her nerves after that pep talk. I even see happy tears in her eyes while the arena burns.

Soon, we arrive over the arena where a tradition was broken; where two victors reigned. Katniss and Peeta lock fingers, and they slowly approach the button.

"Together?" she asks him.

"Together." I remember them saying those words before they nearly poisoned themselves.

After this, we have one place left to go. I can hear us all breathing heavily, waiting for the clockwork jungle to swallow us again. It won't, but don't say that to me. As far as I'm concerned, I died there. We certainly have less to demolish, but remnants are everywhere. My eyes catch the wings of a bird passing by the window. A jabberjay.

"Let's do this one as a group," I say, gesturing to Katniss, Peeta, Enobaria, and Johanna. "The five of us."

I place my hand on the button first. Though Enobaria wasn't our ally- I can't forget how she attempted to kill me twice- she still endured the Quarter Quell; and her hand joins mine without question.

Annie, standing off to the side, looks a bit guilty.

"Walking out on you guys was wrong," she suddenly blurts out.

"Why are you apologizing?" Peeta asks, stepping away from the button. "We're the ones who hurt you by lying."

"I know we've all got our issues, but you're the only people on Earth besides me who fully understand The Hunger Games. I needed you. How could I forget that?"

Katniss goes to Annie, and she cautiously touches her arm. "After the Quarter Quell, I forgot that, too. I just wanted my family around. What matters is we're here now. I'm here. Peeta, Johanna, Beetee, and Enobaria are here."

"For the record, I'm sorry," is what I tell Annie.

"It's okay," she replies.

"We only did it because we care," Enobaria comments.

"I know."

"I've told you I was friends with the Odairs, when I lived in District Four. Right about the time you started dating Finnick, he told me he wanted you to have the greatest life possible, and I've done a rotten job at helping."

"I get it, I get it! I forgive you." Her eyes scan us individually, offering their mercy.

"Oh, come on, Red," Johanna says. "Come finish what Finnick started."

As simple as that, she embraces us again, and we set off the final bomb.

I could swear it's a sunrise.


	12. Year Twelve- Enobaria

How do you really move on from your past?

Good question. I lead an organization that I once deplored, and I still can't seem to get out of "prepare to attack" mode. Like today, when Peeta knocked on the door so loudly that I grabbed a kitchen knife before answering. I sure blushed once I saw it was only him.

 _Crazy woman going through a mid-life crisis,_ he must've thought. He and Beetee went into town, leaving us ladies together. Effie included. So we've been doing what we do best: eat. I ordered from my favorite pizza restaurant.

Annie pats her pregnant stomach, after consuming more than I could ever ingest at once. I guess this baby really wants pizza.

"I see why you love that place, Enobaria," she says happily. "Little Warren thanks you."

"You're having a boy?" Effie squeals. It's the first we've heard of baby number three's gender.

"I am," Annie confirms.

"And Warren… He was your district partner," Katniss says.

Oh yeah. A poor boy who got decapitated by my own tributes. The only thing as hard as killing is watching your proteges- your brothers and sisters in madness- kill.

"I hope leading the Peacekeepers is treating you well, Enobaria," Effie remarks.

"Not exactly. I had to fire a handful last week after I caught them beating up a defenseless old man. Can you imagine? He just got released from the hospital today. They bruised him up pretty badly, though."

"At least you're finally doing something right," Katniss says, looking at my Peacekeeper badge.

I'll pretend I'm not offended. Haven't I shown how different I am from the ruthless monster I portrayed onscreen?

"Just remember," I say, "this current batch of Peacekeepers is the best we've had in a century, because I make it a point to do background checks on each candidate before I hire them. You're welcome."

"I still don't like hearing that word: Peacekeepers. The name just… doesn't inspire confidence."

Johanna reaches into her pocket and touches her own badge, lost in thought. "Well, you _do_ have a lot of sway with Paylor. You could easily ask her about changing our name."

"Yeah, it's past time," I agree. "I'm open for suggestions."

There's a pause as we all contemplate names. Nothing comes to mind for me, but I'm sure any name will be an improvement over so-called "Peacekeepers". So much hypocrisy in one word.

"The Defenders?" Annie offers.

"No. Too superhero-ish."

"The Protectors," Katniss says. "Because that's what they're supposed to do."

"Better. I'll bring it up with Paylor at our next meeting."

"Who's Vance?" Annie asks out of nowhere.

"What?"

She nudges an elbow to my kitchen counter- where I conveniently left out his note. Nothing scandalous, but people tend to jump to conclusions when someone of the opposite sex gives you their phone number.

"Oh." I can't get out of this now. "Vance Sutherland. He's one of Brutus' old friends."

Annie grins widely. "Do you have a secret boyfriend, Enobaria?"

"Tell us about it!" Effie says.

"No! Can't I just be friends with a man?"

"I say you can," Katniss agrees.

"Okay. If I haven't already said it, I officially like you."

By now, her teen years are definitely behind her. Something about her tone makes me wonder if she knew this conflict herself. After all, we still don't share our darkest, deepest secrets.

Most of those are way out in the open.

"He's done some renovations in my house," I explain, "and we get along well. I keep his number there because I have more projects ahead for him."

Johanna laughs maniacally. "Sure. _Projects._ Listen up, bloodsucker: I can tell you that doesn't usually work. He probably wants you. And I'd bet, since the men in District Two are beautiful, you want him."

What she doesn't know is I've already, um, had the pleasure of Vance's company. One night, specifically, but it happened. I told him not to expect anything serious.

"Have _you_ been with anybody lately?" is how I choose to respond to Johanna.

"None of your business," she replies.

"Exactly. I don't have to tell you anything unless it gets serious."

With that, my friends are left speechless.

* * *

Later that night, I pour a glass of wine, put my feet up in the living room, and turn on the TV, hoping to distract myself from Vance. Annie didn't know what can of worms she opened when she brought him up.

Of course, what happens when you try not to think about someone? You think about them anyways.

 _This couch sure is soft…_

"Babe, you'd better wake up," Brutus whispers. "They'll be getting here soon."

"Huh?"

"The other victors."

Right. He always rises earlier than me. I quickly dress and run a brush through my hair, which is all I really have time for. Brutus offers me a cup of coffee when I get to the kitchen.

"You should move on," he says.

"What are you talking about?"

Then his blue eyes are staring only at me. "Are you hearing me, Enobaria? You go live your life. I don't care who you're with as long as you're happy."

Why do I feel something wet trickling down my cheek? Brutus and I hadn't lived together for decades.

But there _was_ our last night before the Quarter Quell. When he'd admitted that he volunteered to keep me safe.

"Okay," I promise. "I can try."

My brain's fogged up when I awake in the real world. He felt so real. And yet, I know where he's buried. The same graveyard where District Two buried all their victors.

 _He was right, though_. I can't hold onto him forever. Slowly, I get ready for the day, and before I leave, I pick up my phone. Vance's number is right beside it.

So I make a little call.

"I'm free tomorrow night," I say to Vance. Why don't you come over?"


	13. Year Thirteen- Johanna

_"_ _Every day, step by step,_

 _We dare to love again."_

-Tove Lo

* * *

I hardly recognize the woman I see when I look in the mirror. She's getting closer to forty years old every day, and wrinkles are beginning to show around her brown eyes. Her hair is longer than it's ever been, near her elbows- Oh goody. Are those gray strands popping up? _Great_. But I really don't want to dye it. One of the only things I like about my appearance is my natural hair color. When it grew back, it became lighter, red instead of the old brown. I was pleasantly surprised by that. Red is awesome. Not that my friends care, because they've never said a word about this change. Did they even notice? Or maybe they're just not wanting to bring up my days in the Capitol dungeons.

I say, what's done is done. We can't go back and change things. Don't you think I would if I could?

Through my gigantic windows, I can see a woman approaching the door. _Hmm._ I'm not expecting anybody yet. Effie Trinket and the victors won't be coming until this evening. I greet her anyway, hoping she's not another desperate author who wants to write my biography. They still try every now and then.

"Hello," I tell her.

"Hi," she says. "Are you Johanna Mason?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Beverly White. You'd know me by my maiden name- Mason."

Another look at her, and I clearly see a female version of my own father, aged by decades. She's got to be in her sixties at this point, like he would've been.

 _Don't cry, Jo. Don't. Cry._

"Wait a minute…. Aunt Bev?"

She nods, smiling grimly. "It's me, JoJo."

Beverly helped raise me and my siblings after Mom got sick. When I was ten, she ran off into the wilderness, and we lost all contact with her. Dad assumed that she'd died. I even mourned her because I knew it was probably true.

But here she is.

"You _do_ know the Games are over, right?" I ask her.

"So I heard."

"Where have you been this whole time? Why didn't you look for me earlier?"

"I thought you were gone!" she cries. "It was only when I asked people in town that I found out what happened to you. I wasn't surprised about Jeremy… but Alice and Nate, too?"

"That's right. They've been dead for eighteen years. You shouldn't have left in the first place! Life was horrible, but I knew you would be there to cheer me up. And then, you weren't. Explain how you, the closest thing to a mother we had, could just abandon me- no, not just me- _us!_ We missed you every single day…"

Tears are falling down Bev's face. "I can't take it back. But I'm here now."

"It _is_ good to see you again," I admit.

"Remember your Uncle Rick?"

"Barely. Your wedding was just before you took off." That dreaded feeling settles in my gut again. "He's not… alive, is he?"

"No."

Figures. Darn. I liked him, too.

"It was hard, of course," Bev goes on, "but something wonderful did come out of the time I had with him. Eighteen years ago, I gave birth. You have a cousin, JoJo. Her name is Naomi."

My heart starts beating faster. " _Have?_ Where is she?"

"She was checking out the woodshop in town. I couldn't pull her away, so I said I'd bring you to her."

We head out together, my legs racing with anticipation. Will Naomi like me? Is she good with an axe? Maybe she's never touched one. In which case, I'd have to teach her some tricks. I have no trouble finding her. She has Alice's button nose, even my freckles. Yup. We're definitely related.

"Naomi White," I say.

She grins. "Johanna Mason. Pinch me. I didn't believe Mom at first when she told me. I mean, you're so famous, but I guess I could see a resemblance whenever I saw you on TV or in photos. My cousin is Johanna Mason!"

"I'm just Jo to you, okay?"

"Okay, Jo… Um… We should hug or something."

I put my arms around her, mostly because I can't believe this is real. Inside, I'm laughing. Of course, my own cousin is starstruck by me.

Once we break apart, I peer down at my watch. "You know what? Let's go back to my house. I have some friends who might want to meet you."

"You don't mean, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, and those other victors?"

"Yes, actually," I reply, amused that she guessed correctly. "Well, I call the lovebirds Brainless and Bread Boy."

Naomi lets out the girliest squeal I've ever heard.

* * *

The victors don't look too happy, standing in the cold on my porch, but when they notice the people I brought, they perk up, and not just because they weren't expecting others.

"So… How is it these ladies look like you, Johanna?" Beetee asks.

"Yeah," Peeta agrees. "You said you had no family anymore."

"I bet you're about to tell us an interesting story," Enobaria says with a smirk.

"Well, I literally just found out I was wrong," I admit, gesturing from Bev to Naomi. "The Mason tree won't die with me after all. Everybody, this is my aunt, Bev, and my cousin, Naomi."

"There are more of you?" Enobaria asks. "God help us."

Everyone but Bev and Naomi breaks into laughter. They just look confused, while memories cause me to clutch my sides because they hurt so much.

"Am I missing something?" Bev asks.

"Yeah, the last twenty-five years of my life," I replied. "I'm not the girl you remember."

"Honey, I know you're not. I wouldn't expect that from someone who had to grow up fast. Especially not after two Hunger Games."

I see Katniss look at Bev with respect. "We all changed. But your niece, Johanna… she's one of a kind."

"You bet I am," I say, giving a curtsy. All of us walk into my house, laughing again.

 _There's no one left I love._ I guess that's not true. I have five people who traveled to hell and back with me. That counts for something, right? And now… now I know my biological family isn't all wiped out.

Is it crazy that I'm happy?


End file.
